Be I, who suffers and thanks
Pain the remedy,
Be him, who gives and takes
The illness, the comedy.
Redeem not what you tell
And tale your tragedy,
Thus you give yourself to hell
To tell apart you from thee.
Be blessed, you the upper be!
If my sins grew uncountable,
Forgiveness I ask it for me
Since I know it grows, abundantly.

You are supposed to be
                  
                   Stronger than a flower,

You brought up, steel,
                  
                    Don’t hide your power.


A flower, why not!
                    
                   Yes I am, and what then!

Powerful as a flower!
                    
                   Am I?

More fragile then!

Let the lady disguised
Behind the doors of mind
Emerge and never mind
Men have realized.

Tell the lady torn
Between the two presents,
Father Christmas lorn
Brought his best presents:

A New Sun and a deal
Of reverence and quality
Thus, you will deal
With men with equality.

Trust so thrice a lady
As for men it is so,
And once more, we must know,
For being simply a lady.

I am allowed, I am a poet
And what shall I say,
But convey and state
A right so many deny,
With sterns of cursed
Stone brains and stone hearts
Of stone bodied beings
Of a stone age.

We spoke between inverted commas,
And we spoke between brackets,
Our question marks were shouting
Our exclamations were brief.

We were still in the present
We gazed along its past,
We asked about the future
Of our continuous present.

We spoke with subjective objectivity
We spoke of our credibility,
She had fifty percent and I__
I had fifty and much more.

You cannot write our story,
It is somewhere between the lines,
Our punctuation protects us,
Our love is so defined.

We were the established rule
And we were the exception,
Our theory is not so cruel
We are still making sure.

The golden age is over
What can I do?
I am not getting older
I have somewhere to go,
Now all what I cover
Soon will emerge and show,
What was hidden forever
And the world will know,
That I was a good father
Only friends not even a foe
My good wife a shelter
I thank God for so
And for my nice little daughter
To whom I don’t wish any woe,
I keep hope in her laughter
As there is always something to do,
If love is great hope is greater
So I will let go what must go.

Do not tell me that you are human please,
When you can not understand
That your brother is not at ease
Why can not he stand?
On his feet not on his knees
Why can not you be a friend?
To the Flowers as to the Bees
And try to lend a hand
To his ill children who sneeze
In the slums and down to land
With devotion and please,
Pray for their souls and tend
Not to die and cease.